


Be My Saving Grace

by mewgirl1995



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, New York City, Original Songs, Singing, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-23 23:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30063090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewgirl1995/pseuds/mewgirl1995
Summary: Like many young bright-eyed artists, Jaskier thought moving to New York City could easily make all his dreams come true. Seeking inspiration, Jaskier learns of a hidden world of magic and monsters from his roommate. The witcher would be his muse and he would finally write a good masterpiece. Though where there is an adventure, danger always lurks-hidden in the shadows.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Other(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	1. A Friend of Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> Story title inspired by the song "Whiskey Lullabies" by Janet Devlin and chapter title inspired by "Toss A Coin to Your Witcher" by Sonya Belousova, Giona Ostinelli, and Joey Batey.

Another day, another failed gig. Jaskier sighed as he pulled out his key and struggled to unlock the apartment door. After several angry attempts to turn it, he finally managed to get in. When he shut the door behind him, he had to close it several times before it stuck. The fight to get the door relocked was next. All of his cursing and struggling must have woken up Chireadan. His roommate padded out into the main room with a yawn. 

“Have you defeated the door yet?” He asked as he filled up a glass of water. 

“When I make it big, I promise to buy us a nice apartment, maybe a penthouse. Then we won’t have to live in dumps like this ever again!” 

With one final shove against the door, Jaskier finally managed to get it relocked. “So how many millions did you make today?” Chireadan hid his smirk behind his glass as he took a quick sip. 

“I’ll have you know, I probably made at least fifty dollars.” Jaskier set down his guitar case and opened the fridge, searching for a snack. It was very barren inside, but Jaskier did find one hard-boiled egg left. “We could treat ourselves to some groceries. How can a starving musician find any inspiration? I just can’t work in these conditions.” He wandered over to the couch and dropped down, kicking his feet up on the table. “To be honest, I haven’t even written anything in almost a month! I’m just recycling old content and throwing some covers in here and there.” 

Chireadan followed him over and sat on the old armchair. He continued sipping his water and then quietly said, “Well maybe I can give you some inspiration.” 

“No offense Chireadan, but I’m pretty sure your pharmacy job isn’t that interesting.” 

“I’m not talking about my job,” Chireadan said, rolling his eyes. “I’m talking about fairy tales and stories of long-forgotten grandeur.” 

With a slight raise of his eyebrow, Jaskier leaned forward. He would be lying if that hadn’t caught his attention. He was desperate for anything that could inspire him at that point, even if it was some kids’ fairy tale. “Okay, go on.”

Excitement flickered through Chireadan’s eyes and he perked up considerably. “Alright, so we all know there are monsters, right? Vampires, basilisks, wyverns, all sorts of awful creatures.” 

“Debatable, but sure.” 

“Well, what protects us from the monsters then? Why don’t you see monsters wandering the streets, picking off innocent women and children?” Jaskier shrugged and Chireadan continued, “Because we’re protected by the witchers.” 

“Huh, what’s a witcher? Like some sort of witch? An old hag with-”

“No, no, no,” Chireadan said, waving his hands. “Witchers are a race of well, I guess you could call them mutants. They have golden cat-like eyes and carry two swords: one silver and one steel. They say the silver one is for monsters and the steel is for men.” As Chireadan continued to tell the story, his eyes lit up in excitement. “Thousands of years ago a group of mages created them as the ultimate weapon against evil. But don’t bother thinking of thanking them, they have no human emotions.”

“That seems like a sad existence,” Jaskier said with a hum. “I’ve never heard a story like this, maybe you’re right. Maybe this is a song just waiting to burst into existence.” 

“In the olden days, people would pay witchers for their services, but now they work in much more secrecy. Typically they earn their wages just by collecting monster parts to sell to mages. It is thankless work, but that’s what they were created to do.” 

As Chireadan continued on and on with his story, Jaskier felt a small smile coming on. He knew a lot of people found Chireadan odd. He had apparently struggled for a long time to even find a roommate to live with. Jaskier never really understood why. As far as he could tell, Chireadan was pretty personable, maybe a little shy at first. He never had a single issue getting along with him. He was probably the best roommate Jaskier had ever had. 

“So they say that you are actually in luck if you find a witcher. They are such rare creatures, so maybe you can find some inspiration from one of them. I certainly wouldn’t pass the opportunity up.”

With a laugh, Jaskier stood and patted Chireadan on the shoulder. “Oh, I wish. Wouldn’t a magical adventure be a perfect inspiration, huh?” With a wave, he headed towards his room. “Sorry for waking you up, maybe I’ll bring you a croissant back tomorrow?”

Laying in bed, Jaskier idly listened to the horns of the boats from the river. He had come to New York City with stars in his eyes and a grudge towards his parents. Now, seven years later, he still had nothing. He hadn’t made it big and despite his failure, he wasn’t about to go crawling back home. With a groan, Jaskier pulled a pillow over his head. Why couldn’t the universe just grant him one tiny dose of inspiration? 

Despite his growing depression, Jaskier still dragged himself out of bed the next morning. He grabbed his journal and headed to the cafe, determined to work on some new songs. One more morning brawl with the door and he was off, weaving and diving between the crowds as he hurried to the cafe. Luckily, he made it just in time to secure his normal window adjacent table. 

The barista smiled at him as he approached, “Ah, good morning, Julian. Here to write some masterpieces?” 

There seemed to be a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but Jaskier ignored it. “Well, of course! I think this is going to be it. I’m going to find my muse today.” 

“Sure, honey. Chocolate croissant and vanilla latte as usual?” 

“You know it!” 

Two croissants, three lattes, and many miserable hours later, Jaskier still had nothing. He laid his head on the table, staring outside with a sinking feeling in his chest. He really was going to be a washed-up failed musician. He would have to go back home and work at his family's company and be miserable and lackluster for the rest of his life. With a groan, Jaskier took to people watching. It was the same run of the mill as always, businessmen, students, variety of different New Yorkers just mingling in the streets. Nothing new. Then, he caught a flash of white. Surprised, Jaskier sat up and eyed a man with long white hair that was hurriedly shoving through the crowd. As he got closer, Jaskier saw a brief flash of his golden eyes. Could it be? 

Leaping to his feet, Jaskier shoved his notebook and pens into his bag and raced out of the cafe. “Are you not going to clean up your trash? Julian!” The door slammed shut and Jaskier ignored the angry barista to chase the strange man instead. 

He was fast, Jaskier had to give him that. Though Jaskier had the advantage of being able to see his white hair glittering in the sunlight. There was no way he was going to escape. All of a sudden, the man darted off the main path and into an alleyway. Jaskier hurried to follow him, getting several angry remarks when he shoved through the crowd of people. As he walked into the alleyway, he paused, not seeing the man anywhere. How in the world had he lost him? Jaskier continued a little further than was startled when he heard footsteps behind him. 

“Who are you? Why are you following me?” 

Spinning around, Jaskier came face to face with the man. He stood there with his arms crossed, scowling at Jaskier. As Jaskier thought, he had gorgeous, yet peculiar, golden eyes. Though Jaskier would have appreciated them more if they weren’t narrowed accusingly at him. “Well, you see, my name is Julian Alfred Pankratz, but I much rather go by my stage name, Jaskier. I saw you back in the cafe and I thought-”

“Nevermind,” the man said with a groan. “Just get out of here.” 

“Excuse me, aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” 

The man pushed past Jaskier with a quiet grunt. “No. Scram.” 

“Oh wait! Maybe I could just follow you for a little bit? I know that sounds weird, but I’m looking for a muse, I guess. My songwriting has really taken a bit of a dive and-” He broke off as the man ignored him and continued down the alleyway. 

Feeling a bit foolish, Jaskier wondered if he should turn back. Chireadan’s stories were just stories and he had just chased down a beautiful odd stranger and demanded to stalk him. It was not his best moment. On the other hand, he needed inspiration and it wasn’t just going to come from nowhere. The alleyway led down to a series of old, abandoned buildings. Maybe he would find some inspiration in the creakings of a warehouse. He seriously doubted it but figured it was worth a try. 

The warehouse was filled with old storage units. Various units were open, revealing piles of garbage and forgotten belongings inside. Jaskier hummed and peaked through them, curious about the assorted furniture. Perhaps he could start with a song of forsaken old memories left to rot. Pieces of lives left to be dug through by strangers? The lyrics that came to mind were decent, but not really the breakthrough he was looking for. 

A loud bang sounded from the distance, Jaskier peeked around the corner. Was it a large rat making all that racket? He had certainly seen some sizable ones on the subway before. Out of curiosity, Jaskier headed towards the noise. As he got closer, he heard shuffling sounds. Whatever it was, it seemed to be digging through one of the units. 

“Hey there, little fellow,” Jaskier called as he came around the corner so he wouldn’t scare it. In the dark, he could see a large shadow digging around in a couch. “Oh, a dog? Hey puppy, don’t worry. Are you lost? Maybe I can take you home.” 

The shadow paused and turned. 

“Come here, come on boy, come here.” 

As it stepped into the light, Jaskier quickly realized it was not a dog. In fact, it didn’t really look like an animal at all. It looked like some sort of overgrown featherless rooster with green skin and giant horns on either side of its beak. With a horrible screech, the creature started crawling on its clawed wings and feet towards Jaskier. 

“You are not a dog! Oh no, no thank you. Please go back to your couch snuffling, I’ll just leave.” 

The creature screeched again and flew at him, crashing into the door of another storage unit as Jaskier ducked. He dropped to the concrete floor and rolled away before quickly getting back to his feet and full-on sprinting in the opposite direction. Behind him, the creature screeched again and began to chase him. The only saving grace he had was that the halls were too narrow for it to open its wings. Even scrambling on its talons, the beast was fast and Jaskier worried that it was going to catch up to him. 

Then, Jaskier rounded another corner and the white-haired man was there again. With an irritated huff, he grabbed Jaskier by the collar and shoved him behind him. “Stay out of the way,” he growled.

Jaskier hadn’t noticed before, but the man was wearing two rings: one silver one on his right hand and one steel one on his left. In one smooth movement, the man pulled the silver ring off his hand and held it tightly in his palm. The ring disappeared in a flash of light and a mighty silver sword appeared in the man’s hand. 

“Oh my god,” Jaskier said, eyes wide. “Chireadan’s stories were true.” 

The witcher stepped forward towards the beast, who shrieked and charged at him. He batted away its scrabbling talons, slicing along its long legs and making two huge holes in the wings. Snarling and screeching, the creature attempted to skewer him, but he was faster. As he ducked and weaved around the basilisk, he turned and held out his hand. Air exploded from his fingertips, blasting the creature back into a wall. It growled and launched at him again. With one swift swing, the witcher decapitated the creature. Its body collapsed to the ground, slowly fading away into dust. Kneeling beside the creature, the witcher quickly removed its eyes and dropped them into a small pouch. Then, he looked back at Jaskier with a scowl. 

“Consider yourself lucky. Not many survive a basilisk. If it had been able to fly, you’d be dead.” 

“Perhaps I could be rewarded with my savior’s name,” Jaskier said before the witcher got a chance to leave. He took a step closer to the witcher, watching as the monster finished dissolving into dust. “I mean, my friend just told me a fairytale about witchers, and seeing one in person, wow, I feel so lucky.” 

Instead of giving his name, the witcher waved a hand over his sword, returning it to ring form. He slipped it back on his hand and turned to leave. “It’d be better if you just forgot what you saw. Go home.” 

A little crestfallen, Jaskier watched the witcher leave, but decided against chasing him. If he did want to eventually use him as a muse, he needed to gain his trust. Though it was New York City. There were over eight million people in the city. What were the chances of him finding the witcher again?

By the time Jaskier made it back home, it was almost sunset. He walked back upstairs and headed straight to his room, wondering if he should tell Chireadan. He decided against it, figuring Chireadan would just think he was crazy. With a groan, Jaskier pulled the pillow over his head. Maybe he had lost his mind and imagined the whole encounter. His song-starved brain was just desperately trying to create something out of nothing.

“ _Here’s my epic tale,_

_Our champion prevailed,_

_Defeated the villain._

_Give a tip to your witcher,_

_A friend of humanity._ ” 

Jaskier broke off his song and rolled over. “Nah, that’s not any good.” 


	2. We All Want Something Beautiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspired by "Mr. Jones" by Counting Crows.

Afternoon gigs were the worst in April since it almost always meant Jaskier would get caught in a thunderstorm. Yet once again, he had forgotten an umbrella. Cursing under his breath, Jaskier ducked and weaved under various awnings as he attempted to sprint home. Luckily, he did splurge on a mostly waterproof guitar case. It served to help keep at least some of the rain off. He was still a good five-minute walk from the subway station at Union Square and by the way it was downpouring he would be completely drenched by the time he made it there. 

As he hurried down the sidewalk, he glanced towards a small thrift shop. To his surprise, he saw a flash of long white hair. His heart skipped a beat and he paused under the awning to peek inside the window. Sure enough, the witcher was inside, intently scanning the aisles. It was Jaskier’s lucky day. He rushed inside, dripping wet. The shopkeeper glared at him but didn’t say anything. 

“We just keep running into each other, don’t we?” Jaskier called across the shop. The witcher glanced up and then immediately scowled. “Doing some afternoon shopping I see? What are you looking for? Maybe another ring or two to add to your collection?” 

“Leave me alone.”

Jaskier did not do that. Rather, he followed the witcher around the shop, picking up and eyeing various curios. “So what are you in the market for?” He picked up a hat and was about to try it on when he caught another glare from the shopkeeper. He hastily put it back. “Maybe a cool jacket, some new jeans?” He eyed the witcher, looking him over. “I mean your style is pretty simple. Plain blue button-up, dark jeans, black combat boots. Not super stylish if I’m honest.”

The witcher returned his comments with an annoyed, silent stare. 

“Maybe you should add some accessories?” Jaskier said. “Something heroic? Like a neat little pin or broach on your shirt?” He gestured vaguely at the witcher’s shirt, which was partially unbuttoned. Then he noticed a silver chain sneaking under his shirt. “Oh, I guess you have a necklace. Perhaps a watch then?” The witcher’s arms were pretty bare, exposed since he had his sleeves pushed up. Though as Jaskier looked closer, he did notice a variety of pale scars stretching up and down his forearms. Something fluttered in Jaskier’s chest. 

“Why are you following me?” The witcher asked sharply, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

With a grin, Jaskier held his hands out, framing the witcher with both hands and closing one eye to peer through them as if they were a camera. “I’m looking for a muse and I think you might be it.” Despite the witcher’s scowl, Jaskier thought he looked quite good framed between his fingers.

“Find a different muse.” The witcher turned to walk down a different aisle and Jaskier hurried around to meet him in the middle. He groaned. 

“Aw come on, I could even help you with your glorious adventures.” Jaskier picked up an old music box. “Ah, look at this, isn’t it cool?” The witcher turned and looked like he was about to snap at Jaskier again as he continued to chatter on, “There’s some weird scribbles on the outside, huh? I wonder what it-”

“Jaskier, put that down!” 

As Jaskier went to open the music box, the witcher reached out to grab his hand and push the lid shut. Before the box could be closed, it played one long, low tone and the little crystal inside spun around, generating a bright flash of light blue light. When the light enveloped him, Jaskier felt as if his whole body had been lit on fire. It burned and throbbed and he felt as if he was screaming but there was no sound. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was over. 

Jaskier and the witcher were no longer standing in the thrift shop. Instead, they were in a crumbling building overgrown with vegetation. The sun warmed Jaskier’s face. He stood frozen in shock, glancing around a few times. Everything around him was unfamiliar. The air almost seemed to hum with some unknown energy. They were definitely not in New York City any longer.

“Great,” the witcher muttered, snatching the box away from Jaskier. “This is the last place I wanted to end up.”

“Where exactly are we? How are there so many trees? It’s not even raining anymore!” 

Looking over the box, the witcher sighed. “Looks like the teleportation crystal only works one way.” He tossed the box down and stomped on it, smashing it to bits. Jaskier just stared, looking at the pieces and back to Geralt multiple times. 

“What do you mean it can’t take us back? Where even are we? And furthermore-”

“We wouldn’t even be in this mess if you hadn’t touched the damn box!” 

Jaskier paused but did not have a good retort. “Fair point. Follow up, additional question, maybe you could tell me your name now? Since we’re trapped in someplace, who knows if we’ll get home?”

“We’ll get home.” The witcher started to walk away then paused. With a slight glance backward, he said, “Geralt.” Excitement bubbled in Jaskier’s chest but before he could reply, Geralt was waving for him to follow. “Keep up or I’ll leave you behind.” 

Once Jaskier had time to reflect on what had just happened, he realized that Geralt had remembered his name. He called it before they disappeared through the portal. As Jaskier hurried to keep up, he swore the flushing of his face was probably just from the exercise. 

The pair walked along a path through the dense undergrowth for a while and then it turned and headed up a hill. Jaskier looked back at where they had come from and gasped in surprise. A ruined city surrounded them. He could make out crumbling walls and collapsed towers that might have once belonged to a castle. It was magnificent and spooky at the same time. A flock of birds burst from a tree and flew across the overgrown landscape, spiraling and calling to one another. It seemed as if humans had not been there in a very, very long time. 

“Where exactly are we?” 

Geralt stopped and looked back over the city. “This is Cintra.” 

“So we’re not in the future? What about the past?” As Jaskier spoke, Geralt was already walking away and he had to hurry to catch up.

With a heavy sigh, Geralt shook his head. “We’re in the magic realm.” He pulled off the steel ring and turned it into a sword in order to cut through a particularly dense thicket of foliage. “A long time ago, human and elf mages decided to separate humanity and seal away everything magical. Monsters, elves, dwarves, all the lot live here.” 

“Aren’t witchers magical?” 

A small smile flitted across Geralt’s face. Jaskier was pretty sure that was the first time he had smiled. “Yes, but we are useful to humans, so apparently we could stay.” 

“Oh, I see, yeah, this isn’t completely nuts at all!” 

Yelping, Jaskier tripped over a large branch. Geralt caught him by the collar and yanked him back up. Warmth spread across the back of Jaskier’s neck as he quickly pulled away and dusted himself off. “Thought you wanted a muse? You got what you asked for.” 

“I wasn’t quite asking for this.” Jaskier could have sworn Geralt smirked before turning away. “Follow-up question, where are we going exactly?” 

“Our best bet to get home is to find elves and hope they can create a portal for us.”

The sun was already sinking towards the horizon, beginning to cast long shadows. “So how long will that take?” Geralt didn’t answer and instead continued pushing ahead. “Well, hopefully, we’ll get home before dinner right?” Geralt ignored him again. “Before tomorrow, maybe, or-”

“Who knows? Could be next week, next month.” Geralt looked to Jaskier with an annoyed frown. “You should save your breath. We’re going to have to hike for a while.” 

With a quiet huff, Jaskier crossed his arms and looked away. “Well, fine, whatever.” 

It was pitch black by the time Geralt finally stopped. Jaskier leaned against a tree, panting and gasping for breath. Geralt ignored him and started setting up a campfire. At least they would get that small luxury.

When Jaskier’s lungs finally stopped burning, he took a seat beside Geralt at the fire and opened his guitar case. Luckily, despite all the hiking and the rain and the magic, it appeared to still be in good condition. He pulled it out and strung a few chords, tuning it slightly. 

“Any requests?” He asked with a grin. Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re seriously going to play here?”

With a shrug, Jaskier nodded and strummed a few nonsense notes to test the sound. “Yeah, it’ll lift the mood.” 

Jaskier began to play the first few chords and Geralt leaned back slightly, watching with a curious expression. It felt suitable to pick a song about friendship. After all, Jaskier hoped they were at the beginning of a great friendship. Since the song's chords were so simple, Jaskier got a chance to show off his voice.

As Jaskier continued to play and get more and more into the song, he almost began to forget that he was stuck in a horrible forest far away from home. All that mattered was him and the song. The emotions he could portray through it spoke volumes. That’s what he always loved about music. It could brighten any situation. There was always something deeper behind the lyrics. Something that his own songwriting was still lacking.

Despite the aches and pains that filled Jaskier at the moment, energy rushed through him as he played and sang. The blisters on his fingers didn’t even sting anymore. He glanced up, curious if Geralt was watching him. He was, though with an unreadable expression. The flames and shadows danced off Geralt’s face and Jaskier’s chest felt tight.

The fire crackled in the background, inducing more of a relaxed camping feel. Jaskier felt his face flush as he realized Geralt hadn’t stopped watching him at all. He had played for Chireadan plenty of times, but Geralt had a much more intense gaze. It was almost supernatural, especially with those golden eyes. Beyond that, it felt good to have Geralt’s eyes on him in a non-angry manner. It was nice to be watched. 

Before even realizing it, Jaskier soon felt his fingers strum the last few chords. With a grin, he looked to Geralt, who finally looked away, watching the fire instead. He didn’t say anything. Not a single word of praise. As Jaskier peered closer though, he swore he saw a hint of a smile though. 

“Well it was good, right?” Jaskier asked. “Surely, you have some comment on my performance, right?” 

“Hm.” Geralt turned away and smothered the fire out. “We should get some sleep.”

Of all the rude things Geralt had done since they had met, Jaskier had to think that was one of the rudest. Geralt could have at least given some comment on his singing. Grumbling under his breath, Jaskier returned his guitar to the case and laid down, attempting to get comfortable on the cold hard ground. He kept glancing over towards Geralt and was annoyed to see that he seemed to fall asleep almost immediately. It took many long painful hours of tossing and turning before Jaskier managed to even find a comfortable sleeping position. 

Geralt woke Jaskier just after the sun had barely begun to rise. He groaned and buried his head in his jacket. “Just leave me here to die.” 

“Stop being so dramatic.” 

Once Jaskier finally dragged himself to his feet, he winced as he tried to swing his guitar case over his shoulder. Every part of his body ached and the guitar case yanking his shoulder down did not help. Geralt eyed him as they walked for the first few miles and then came to a sudden stop. Jaskier bumped into his back, surprised. 

“Why are you stopping?” 

Instead of answering, Geralt pulled the guitar case out of Jaskier’s grasp and slung it onto his back. “You’re not used to this.” 

Embarrassed, Jaskier kicked at the dirt. He could carry his own guitar himself. Surely, he wasn’t that out of shape. Though the sharp pains in his body said otherwise. “I’ve gone on a good hike every once and a while.” 

“Hm.” 

It was certainly easier to hike without the heavy guitar case. Jaskier perked up a bit, trying to ignore the burning in his legs. “So, witcher, tell me your story. How did you end up in New York City?” Geralt ignored him. “Don’t worry, I can share first if you’d prefer.” 

“Please don’t.” 

Picking up his pace, Jaskier walked beside Geralt and quickly spoke before he could get cut off. “I was a bit stifled as a child, you see. My parents treated me far more like a doll than a person. It was always ‘Julian do this’ or ‘Julian, you need to play soccer now’ and ‘Julian how about the piano or the violin? Those are much better instruments to play.’ ”

Rolling his eyes, Geralt glanced over. “Is there a point to this story?” 

“So I started plotting. The moment I turned eighteen I would run away!” Geralt looked over again, more sharply. Jaskier was surprised to see a flash of pain in his eyes. Perhaps he had a hard relationship with his family too. “My parents made a vital mistake in setting up my trust fund. I was allowed full access once I turned eighteen, so I withdrew everything and bought a new car under my own name and registration and left.” 

Geralt raised an eyebrow. 

“Of course three hundred thousand dollars can only go so far and it was stupid of me to buy a brand new car. Nor did I anticipate how much rent was in New York City and-” 

Before Jaskier could continue, Geralt held out his arm. He ran straight into it and was about to speak up again when Geralt quickly whispered, “Jaskier, shut up.”

Shuffling around in the meadow was a disgusting, ginormous centipede. Geralt handed Jaskier his guitar case and stepped forward slowly, heading towards a tree. Jaskier hurried after him. He was not as careful and stepped on a branch, which snapped under his weight. Geralt winced. The centipede turned its horrible creepy head towards them and then burrowed into the ground. 

“Fucking great,” Geralt muttered. He grabbed Jaskier rather roughly around the hips and tossed him up into the tree. Jaskier yelped as he scrambled to grab a handhold and pull himself up into the tree. “Stay there.”

Geralt darted away from the tree and stomped on the ground as he pulled off his silver ring. Wielding the silver sword, Geralt struck the hilt against the ground, creating a loud thump. The giant centipede erupted through the ground and came right at him, jaw snapping over and over. Geralt leaped out of the way and slashed at it. The creature screeched as his blade dug a deep gash in its back. It swung around and came at him again, but Geralt dodged. Before going underground it spit acid at him. 

“Geralt!” Jaskier yelped, but the acid only grazed him, burning a small hole in his pants. 

When the giant centipede burst from the ground again, Geralt did not miss. He slammed the sword straight into its head. It let out an awful shriek and writhed around, trying to pull loose. Geralt swung around and slammed a foot into it’s back, pushing it down as he dug the sword in deeper. It was awe-inspiring. Geralt was a force of nature, clearly nothing could contend with. When the centipede finally stopped wiggling, he twisted the sword as he pulled it out. Jaskier leaned forward on the branch, eyes wide and heart pounding from excitement. 

“You can come down,” Geralt said, wiping the blade off on the grass before returning it to its ring form. “If there were others around they would have attacked by now.” 

Jaskier ungracefully tried to shimmy out of the tree and fell straight onto his back. He groaned and blinked. When his vision cleared up, Geralt stood over him with a smirk. He held out his hand and pulled Jaskier to his feet. “Well that was more than enough excitement for one day,” Jaskier said, brushing the dirt from his pants. Geralt took the guitar case again. 

“Come on.” 

Jaskier grumbled under his breath but followed along. Apparently being almost killed by a monster was still not reason enough to take a break. As he hurried to catch his breath and catch up to Geralt, he glanced up in time to catch a small smile shot in his direction. It disappeared as fast as Jaskier spotted it. 

“Monsters are attracted to people and there are a lot of people in New York City.” 

For some reason, that short undetailed answer sent a giddy feeling through Jaskier. He couldn’t help but grin as he hurried along, asking question after question to the witcher, not knowing for sure whether he would even get a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! The song Jaskier sang in this chapter was "Mr. Jones" by Counting Crows.
> 
> Updates are on Mondays and Wednesdays.


	3. The Doubt That Fills Your Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspired by "Collide" by Howie Day.

In Geralt’s experience, most humans were not like Jaskier. Most humans shied away from him. They took one look at his golden eyes and turned the other way. It still confused him that Jaskier instead chased after him. He was ecstatic to follow him into danger. Even after a days worth of hiking, he still seemed full of energy. None of Geralt’s gruffness seemed to effect him. It was odd. 

The fire crackled and Jaskier must have finally been exhausted enough to fall asleep immediately. Geralt watched him, curled up in a ball with his head buried in his jacket. His nice jeans and bright sneakers were covered in mud. Not to mention, his shirt had several small rips in it. Those clothes clearly weren’t meant for hiking. 

Geralt reached over to gather a handful of dirt and smother the fire out. He thought back to the first night, when Jaskier had played that song. He had a clear voice and was good with the guitar, that much was clear. What Geralt hadn’t expected was how hard it was to look away. He felt almost entranced by the singing. Embarrassing. As the fire dimmed, Geralt spared a glance at Jaskier again. He slept peacefully, snoring just a bit. 

At first Geralt thought Jaskier must have just been a reckless person, but he was terrified of the creatures they had encountered. Geralt was the only monster that hadn’t scared him. With a quiet hum, Geralt laid down and stared up at the night sky. They were close to one of the elven outposts. They should reach them within the next day or so. Then, they could go their separate ways and never speak again. 

When they were traveling the next day, Jaskier got distracted. He often got distracted. “Is that a waterfall? Oh my god, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and walked after him. When he reached the small pond and waterfall, he spotted Jaskier already pulling off his shoes. “Going for a swim?” 

“I’ve eaten nothing but rabbits and I haven’t had a shower in days, Geralt,” Jaskier said. “I will take a crystal clear pool when I see one. It’s a small luxury.”

Before Geralt could say anything else, Jaskier stripped off his shirt and pants and tossed them aside. He dipped a toe in and made a very loud squeak.

“It’s fucking freezing!” 

“It’s probably snow melt,” Geralt said. He set the guitar case down and walked up to the water’s edge, dipping his hand in. “It’s not that cold.” 

With a pout on his face, Jaskier shifted back and forth, eyeing the pond. Then, he took a few steps back before racing forward and leaping into the water. Geralt groaned as it splashed onto him.

When Jaskier surfaced, he gasped and shivered. “It’s absolutely freezing!”

Rolling his eyes, Geralt leaned up against a nearby tree. He resigned to keep watch while Jaskier fooled around. “Then, why’d you jump in?” 

“It’s not as bad that way,” Jaskier said. He dunked his head under the water and came back up with a sigh. “Despite how cold it is, it’s nice to get all this dirt off.”

“Hm.” 

With a quiet sigh, Jaskier rolled backward and floated on his back. Geralt eyed him, letting his eyes drift across his body. He was handsome and young, Geralt could tell that much. Jaskier couldn’t have been older than thirty. As if he felt his gaze, Jaskier looked over and Geralt quickly looked elsewhere. It wasn’t out of embarrassment, but he didn’t want Jaskier to catch him staring. It would give him the wrong impression. 

“Hurry up. We’ve nearly reached the elves.” 

“You could take a second to relax and come join me,” Jaskier said. He swam back over to the side and leaned on his arms. The way he peered up at Geralt created a tight knot in his stomach. “It’s not that cold, I promise.” 

“Enjoy your swim. I’ll get lunch.” He pushed off the tree and headed off to go locate a few rabbits, though he was sure Jaskier would complain again. He would have to make do since there wasn’t anything else to eat. 

By the time Geralt had tracked down and captured a couple of rabbits, Jaskier was fully dressed again, though his hair was slightly damp. He sat by the waterfall, playing a soft melody. Geralt paused to watch. Jaskier wasn’t singing this time, just quietly strumming with his eyes closed. The song sounded vaguely familiar, but Geralt couldn’t quite place it. The notes rang out, a mixture of low and high, casting a soft melancholy over the scene. 

Without drawing attention to himself, Geralt began to set up the fire. He glanced up every once and awhile and watched as Jaskier finished the song. Instead of stopping, Jaskier played another song with a more upbeat sound. It suited him, the quiet melody dancing across the water. Each note rang out clear. 

Once Geralt had the rabbits skinned and the fire going, he paused to watch again while they cooked. It was concerning that Jaskier hadn’t noticed him yet, but he was fully enraptured in his music. The third song he played seemed a little faster and that time Jaskier sang along with it. Geralt recognized that song. It was a song of adoration and Geralt felt he was intruding to watch. He swallowed, an unwanted heat pouring into his chest. 

“Lunch is ready,” he said, pulling the rabbits off the fire. Jaskier jumped and looked up, face flushed red in embarrassment. 

“Oh, Geralt I didn’t hear you come back,” he said with a quiet laugh. He tucked his guitar back into the case and slung it over his shoulder again, walking back to join Geralt by the fire. “Glad I could provide some light music for you as you cooked.”

Geralt said nothing, handing one of the stakes to Jaskier.

With a groan, Jaskier took the stake and bit into the rabbit. He chewed for a moment before asking, “What did you think? Of my playing?” 

“It’s alright,” Geralt said with a shrug. 

Apparently, that was not the right answer. Jaskier gasped as if Geralt had murdered his whole family. “Alright? That’s all you have to say? I mean it’s better than when you just blatantly ignored me the other day but still.” He grimaced as he took another bite of the rabbit. “That stings. It’s better to be terrible than mediocre.” 

Jaskier was not mediocre, but Geralt was not about to tell him that. He just shrugged. 

“Fine then, keep your terrible taste in music. Who cares what you think anyway?”

Geralt wasn’t sure if he succeeded in hiding his smile.

As usual, Jaskier chattered on as they walked. “So I figured it would be best to find a roommate before my money completely ran dry and-”

“Do you ever shut up?” Geralt said, but there was no venom in his words. To his surprise, Jaskier was able to tell. 

“When I’m sleeping I suppose,” he said. A curious look passed over his face. “Tell me about yourself then. That way I’m not doing all the talking.”

With a small shake of his head, Geralt just pressed forward.

“Oh come on, surely you have something interesting you’d be willing to share.” Jaskier waved his hands about in a way that was only slightly endearing. “How do your magic ring things work? Or who trained you? Where did you grow up?” 

“It’s not that interesting.” 

That was not enough to deter Jaskier. He hummed, leaning his head back to look up at the clouds through the tree branches. It cast dappled light across his face. “I’ve heard in stories that witchers are created by mages and live far longer than humans. How old are you?”

Geralt pointedly ignored that question.

“Fine, fine, that might be a rude thing to ask for how little we’ve known each other.” Jaskier hummed again and then asked, “What’s your favorite color?” 

Geralt stopped. He turned to give Jaskier an incredulous look. “What?” 

“You know, there are standard questions people ask to get to know each other, make small talk. I thought we’d try some of those.” 

Rolling his eyes, Geralt just pushed forward. He hadn’t ever considered what his favorite color was before. It seemed inconsequential.

“Mine is purple. The color of royalty, which now that I say that out loud is a little on the nose. I just think it’s pretty.” Jaskier quickened his pace to match Geralt’s and looked up at him expectantly. 

Groaning, Geralt shrugged. “Blue, I guess.”

Jaskier grinned and looked away. Geralt was surprised he didn’t ask another question but decided to not bring it up. 

As the sun began to set, Geralt spotted a column of smoke snaking up into the air. The elf camp was not far off. Though it would be dangerous to continue through the night. He hesitated, glancing towards Jaskier. He had grown quiet in the last few hours and his pace had slowed considerably. A twinge of guilt spread through Geralt. He was probably pushing him too hard. 

“Let’s make camp for the night,” he said and Jaskier almost immediately dropped to the ground. 

“Oh thank god.” 

  
  
  
  


Nearby, birds were singing in the bright morning sunshine. Jaskier stretched and yawned, aching all over his body. As he rolled over to get up, he found a spear in his face. Yelping, he reached over to slap Geralt on the thigh. “Geralt! Geralt! There’s a spear! We’re under attack.” 

Behind the spear was a seemingly normal woman, but she had pointy ears. She kept the spear pointed at Jaskier’s throat as he scrambled backward. Geralt grabbed his shoulder and held him in place to prevent any further cowering. Jaskier froze and stared ahead with a panicked look. He had not imagined dying at the hands of a weird woman with pointy ears. Though, sometimes did think he might die at the hands of a woman. The pointy-eared woman briefly looked away from Jaskier, but she didn’t point her spear at Geralt. 

“We didn’t mean to come here,” Geralt said. “I swear.” He reached into his shirt and pulled out a medallion.

Jaskier stretched back to get a better look. It was made of silver and had a wolf head engraved into it.

“We’re trying to get back,” Geralt said, still with a firm grip on Jaskier. He watched the spear with a sharp look. 

The woman relaxed, pulling her spear back. “I see, witcher. You require a portal. Follow me.”

Geralt tugged Jaskier up to his feet. Snatching up his guitar case, Jaskier kept close to Geralt. 

“So is she an elf?” Jaskier whispered and Geralt nodded. “Okay, so she’s not going to kill us, then?” 

“I haven’t made up my mind yet,” the elf said and Jaskier jumped. 

The elf led them into a nearby camp. It was adorned with beautiful silver and white tents and several elves paused what they were doing to stare at the newcomers. One of the tent flaps opened and two elves slipped through, one was adorned in gorgeous silks and wore a thin silver crown on his head. The other wore a long, simple yellow dress. She eyed Jaskier and Geralt with sharp curiosity.

“King Filavandrel,” Geralt said with a slight bow of his head. Jaskier’s eyes widened and he quickly mimicked the bow.

“Hello witcher, interesting to see one of your kind here, especially with a human.” The king spoke with malice as he glared straight down at Jaskier. He gulped and stepped back, sliding to hide behind Geralt. 

“I was searching for a suspicious magic item when we ended up here. It possessed a one-way teleportation crystal.” Filavandrel looked like he was about to ask something, but Geralt continued before he could, “I destroyed it.” 

With a quiet hum, Filavandrel nodded. “Well, I suppose I should reward you then. Clearly, you did not mean to come here.” 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering why-”

“Jaskier, shut up.” Geralt slapped the back of his hand to Jaskier’s chest. He gulped and returned a shaky smile to Filavandrel who gave him a cold look. The elven king’s expression made hairs stand up on the back of Jaskier’s neck. What had he done to earn such contempt?

Filavandrel turned and nodded to the elf woman beside him. She stepped forward, smiling. “Go ahead Ida, open a portal to send these two back.” 

Geralt gave another small nod. “Thanks.” 

Ida reached out and shifted her hands, moving them in a slow circle. As she did, sparks of blue danced around her hands, and slowly a shifting, glowing blue portal appeared. Jaskier stared at it with an apprehensive look. He looked to Geralt for instruction and found him staring at the portal with a scowl. 

“I hate portals,” Geralt muttered, grabbing Jaskier around his arm to drag him through. Though, it felt as if they were both sucked in, rather than stepping through. 

Once again, Jaskier felt like he was one fire and simultaneously felt as if he was being ripped apart in a million different directions. He landed hard on the pavement, his guitar case slamming down next to him. Geralt landed more gracefully, eyeing Jaskier with an amused glance.

“Well that was something alright,” Jaskier said. He glanced around squinting in the bright light and reflections off of the cars. Blinking, he tried to orient himself and read a few street signs. “Wait a minute, are we in Brooklyn?” 

“Looks like it.” 

Before Jaskier could say anything else, Geralt was already walking off. “Hey! Are you just going to leave me here?” 

With an exasperated look, Geralt looked back. He pulled a stray piece of paper out of his pocket and scribbled something on it before tossing it to Jaskier. “Stay out of trouble, Jaskier. Don’t keep looking for me.” 

With that said, Geralt left Jaskier standing confused in the street.

“Alright, okay, I guess I’ll find my own way home then! Thanks for that!” 

Despite his annoyance with Geralt, Jaskier felt excitement bubbling in his chest. He looked down at the paper to find a phone number along with a note saying, “ _Only call for emergencies._ ” 

The adventure to the magical land gave Jaskier a new, invigorated sense of inspiration. He met an incredible person and if he dared say, probably made a new friend. His face felt a little flushed as he tucked the piece of paper into his song notebook. Now he just needed to get home. It was time to get to work and finally write something new, something that was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs Jaskier is playing in the chapter are: "All of Me" by John Legend, "Dance Monkey" by Tones and I, and "Collide" by Howie Day
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Updates are on Mondays and Wednesdays.


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